The End Justifies the Means
by JayneDancing
Summary: Getting on for sixty years after the BDM most of the crew has died, the second war of independance is over and Mal is about to face someone who horrifies him. Mal/Inara, River/Jayne Implied. One shot, just a what if?


What if a descendant of the crew went the wrong way?

**Title:** The End Justifies The Means.  
**Characters/Pairings:** Implied Mal/Inara, River/Jayne  
**Rating:** Hmm PG but it is a bit grim  
**Wordcount:** Circa 1000  
**Warnings/Notes:** 60 years at least post BDM, therefore people have died. As far as I recall Joss said the average life expectancy in the verse was 120, I'm assuming that it's lower on the rim. The story involves descendants of the BDH's. There are only slight references to the pairings as they are not the main focus of the fic.

This story came about because I wondered what could happen after a second war for independence, long after, so I did some trawling and didn't find anything, so... there you go..

And yeah, Jayne the bear, it's been done but nothing else seemed to fit (which is probably why it's been done).

**Thanks to Guinny for the beta. ****  
****Disclaimer:** Not mine, not paid, don't sue.

The End Justifies The Means  
Two old men sat on the veranda, glasses of lemonade on the table between them.

In their rocking chairs, they looked just like two old farts getting some summer evening sun into their bones before bed, which wasn't far wrong. The guns at their sides ruined the image a little and there was a tension about them; they were obviously waiting.

An observer would have found it impossible to decide who was the older. They were both lean, but the man on the left was bigger, impressive and strong-looking despite his years, his still sharp eyes peering into the distance, watching for something. The other had the kind of wiry strength that sometimes comes with old age and seems indestructible.

"Mal!" The bigger man leaned forward, squinting in the evening sun.

"You think it's her?" his companion asked. "Jayne!" he added when he didn't get an immediate reply.

"Can't say, but it ain't likely ta be anyone else. Din't invite no one fer tea n' dumplins." He sat back again, eyes still squinting into the distance, and reached down beside him for his favourite gun.

Mal snorted, which made him want to cough. His lungs weren't so good now that there was no Simon to look after them. He took a sideways look at his companion, the last one left of his crew. Jayne might look remarkably tough for his age but Mal wasn't fooled, he'd caught the old man massaging his left arm too often while his lips turned blue.

"Never thought to live this long." The words popped out of his mouth before he realised he'd thought them.

His companion continued peering into the sharp autumn sunset, tracking the movement of something. "Don't count on livin' much longer, here she comes."

His words sent a shiver through Mal, straight into his bones. All the horrors of war and Adelei Niska rolled into one didn't scare him more than what was coming.

Made him angry too. He lifted a pistol off the table, cocked it and placed it in his lap.

A hover car coasted to a halt at the porch. It was a covered thing, swanky, big enough for ten men but the windows were tinted, giving no idea as to how many people were inside. The driver got out and opened the door, giving a hand to the slim figure inside, helping her out.

She stood before them, poised and elegant. They saw the same things differently. The curve of her neck, deep, warm eyes, the sweep of her dark hair was Inara to Mal and River to Jayne.

"Grandfather." She nodded at Mal. "Grandfather." A slight turn of her head and she was nodding at Jayne.

Jayne removed the stogie from his mouth. "Liked it better when ya called me "Poppa Ursidae", fairy girl. Course, can't say I liked that much either, dumb name for a man but you was sweet as a nut when ya said it."

Their granddaughter gave him a cool smile. "Very intelligent Grandfather, an attempt to remind me of happier times. How many people have underestimated you? I never did."

Jayne shrugged. "Most people did was dead real quick, din't get a chance ta do it again."

The cool smile flickered and disappeared; a shade of irritation tightened her face and the fine first lines of crow's feet gave the lie to her smooth cheeks. "As a threat that is slightly ridiculous _Grandfather_."

Jayne shrugged again. "Weren't a threat, jus' facts."

"Why don't we get to the point," Mal interrupted. "Less you ain't noticed I'm kinda old, ain't got time ta waste."

The woman turned her eyes on him. "How true _Grandfather_, or would you prefer I call you Poppa Lupus?"

Mal looked at her steadily. "Don't reckon so."

There was a spark of understanding in her eyes, and then it vanished. She stood a little taller. "The New Independent Alliance has formed a government, however there are certain isolated parts of the Verse who refuse to accept our authority. Before we take action we wish to explore all peaceful options. You are both revered figures in the Second Independence movement, everyone knew of the Wolf and the Bear even if they did not know who you were. If you would speak, make the people see the necessity of central governance to ensure peace and order in the verse then the NIA would be most grateful."

The answering bark of laughter came from both Mal and Jayne; the only difference was Mal needed a good cough after he uttered it. When he could speak, again, there was a dangerous twinkle in his eye.

"Seems you ain't been payin' attention to your history lessons girl. Your parents gonna turn in their graves."

She shrugged indifferently. "Mother and Father are to be remembered with veneration. They began the second war for Independence but they were short-sighted. The old Alliance may have been corrupt and restrictive but some sort of government is required for the benefit of the people. This is what the NIA will be, something that exists to make life better for people in the verse."

"Seems I've heard that one a'fore," drawled Jayne.

That made her impatient. "Will you speak for us?"

Mal flicked a look at Jayne; he had that grin on his face, the one that meant there was a fight coming.

He turned back to his granddaughter and gave her his own grin. "Don't reckon we are."

She sighed. "Very well." She nodded to the driver.

Mal felt Jayne tense next to him. "Don't regret a thing," he said out of the corner of his mouth. It was both a statement and a question. He saw Jayne's grin broaden and the stogie go back in his mouth.

"Naw, s'bin good."

Mal settled back in his rocking chair. His hand tightened on his gun and then relaxed, didn't seem much point if the truth was told. He set his chair rocking, squinted up into the blue sky and wondered what Inara would say to him.

"Yep, s'bin good." He thought for a moment. "N' a whole lotta bad, but mostly good."


End file.
